The Man in the Grey Suit

Chapter III

I find myself awake and staring at the rising sun. It has been a long sleep, but I haven't slept this well in years. The dawn is clouded with the uncertainty of the weather, but my fate today seems pleasantly clear.

Should I really report the old stationmaster? I ponder as I sip my morning tea. He is the reason I am getting out of this baseless store predicament in the first place. That was my primary concern.  This grey suit job gives power, but not much of money. Without him, I wouldn't have much of a means of income.

On the other hand, the man is a traitor to the ideology and dangerous to the authority of the Circle. A lover of the baseless past. And he openly expresses contempt for the Circle and the grey suits. His life's mission is to thwart us. Not to mention his ownership and attempt to propagate some frivolous ancient balderdash, apparently to seduce people away from the authorities. He is a political criminal to the core. The sort of person we have been instructed to immediately shoot. I couldn't do it, because the station is beyond my jurisdiction.

I finish my cup of tea as the clouds disperse.

A sudden epiphany. Thank God I couldn't shoot him, I think. This may not be the last time I face an ordeal like this. The man may be capable of pulling my neck from under the blade very time another evidence fiasco comes up. Why not keep him alive for now, probably threaten him like the other one did? And sell him once he retires? They cannot question me for not catching him till then, as he is beyond my prescribed scope. Airtight!

I wash my cup and reach my wardrobe. As I take out my well-ironed grey suit, I hear furious knocks on my front door. The knocks keep getting louder and more and more frequent, and by the time I reach to the door following a quick rush, the knocker seems to have lost all patience. The racket that he is making is unheard of.

As I open the door, an impulsive push from outside makes it swing faster in my direction. As I open my mouth to yell at the intruder when the bottom of the door slams against my foot, I stop cold. Before me stands yesterday's man in the grey suit, accompanied by two troopers. They immediately grab me by the arms.

"What is the meaning of this?" I yell in shock.
"You are under arrest," says the grey suit man coolly.
I say, "I have concrete proof of my store. Tell your men to get their hands off me this instant! You don't know who you're dealing with..." I add warningly.

"No indeed,"  he mocks. "I don't know who I am dealing with. Neither does anyone else. Because there is nothing to know." Something shifts slowly under his white mask. "Your supposed family tree is untraceable beyond your grandfather. Quite funny for a family that has been running an antique store for five hundred years, don't you think? Not that the store really matters anymore..." He signals to the troopers with his long, gloved fingers. They begin to frogmarch me away as he walks toward my door.

I see the ring-shaped courtroom in my mind's eye, the members of the District Circle in their black uniforms passing my sentence as I stand at the centre of the ring pleading, passing the fatal pink paper around the room and stamping it with an emotionless yet terrific vigour, handing me over to the guards who will put me in the boxcar that goes down the tunnel, and then....."

"Leave me alone!" I cry frantically. "What have I ever done to you?" The strain of the deed parches my throat. The man walks towards me. As I reach out to grab him, a trooper kicks me in the shin and I fall face-first before the grey suit man's feet. He bends over and lifts my head. Even the mask seems unable to hide the sadistic contempt overflowing from his face

"Nothing that is baseless can be allowed to exist."